


Cold Winter

by daliarod



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, because afterall they need a little fun, snow ball fighting, tension in the weirwood tree, there's a lot of hand holding because why not that how you show your angst, third chapter is mature since Jon has unbrotherly thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-04 05:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11548182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daliarod/pseuds/daliarod
Summary: They both stood there, in silence. Only the howling of the wind and the movement of the branches of the Weirwood tree surrounded them.She reached for his shoulder turning him around. “Of course not. Jon you should go to Dragonstone. Don’t try to protect me. You have made your decision and I have made mine.” She simply walked away. Leaving him cold and surrounded by the sounds of the North.Two times Sansa left him him in the cold and the one time he left her with Winterfell.With Jon leaving to Dragonstone Jon and Sansa realize that home is when they are together.





	1. Vow

They both stood there, in silence. Only the howling of the wind and the movement of the branches of the Weirwood tree surrounded them.

He wanted her to understand the reason he had to leave, they needed the dragonglass to fight off the white walkers and wights. Yet she was stubborn, as always. His heart ached further when he saw her blue eyes redden. She had turned around before he could see the tears that threaten to come out.

He broke the silence. “Please Sansa, look at me” her body straighten and turned to face him. Her face composed yet sadness still lingered. “I don’t want to leave the North unprotected. We need these materials. If what Sam says it’s true. The dragonglass can help us defeat the undead.” Her eyes never left his, yet they showed no emotion. _What has Littlefinger done to you? Why have these monsters harden you in such away?_

“If that is your decision, to leave Winterfell. I will not stop you, your Grace. I have meant every word I said, yet you wish to leave home… leave me.” Her face fell to the ground. She looked defeated. His stomach dropped. He closed the space between them holding her tightly against him, her arms wrapped around his neck reminding him of the first time they met in Castle Black. He whispered against her ear, “I will come back I swear. We took Winterfell back from the Bolton’s and we won’t let anyone take it away from the Starks ever again. This is our home, we shall protect it.” _I will protect you even if you say not to._

She pushed him away, “promise me, Jon. Promise me, that you will return home as soon as you get the dragonglass. Swear it on the Old Gods.” Her breath lingered in the air. He was lost. He did not know when or how or why his feelings changed for Sansa. He dreamt of touching her long auburn hair, unbrotherly dreams of pulling her face towards him for a kiss, a sweet kiss. Yet as his dreams progressed those kisses turned passionate. He wanted her warmth, her smiles, and her touches all to himself. He was addicted to her presence that he no longer bared to look at himself, bare looking at her. For if she were to find out about his true nature she will despise him, find him repulsive. He did not want to corrupt the innocence she had left in her.

He is her brother, _half-brother_ , he pushed Littlefinger’s voice out of his head. Remembering how good it felt to have pushed that poor excuse of a man down at the crypts.

“Aye, Sansa I vow to return home,” _to you_ , “I swear it on the Old Gods.” He reached for her face. If his glove was cold she did not take note of it leaning against it. She reached to cover his hand with her own only to remove it from her face.

He felt a pinch of rejection.

“No, Jon. You have your duties. I… I’m just being selfish, not wanting to let you go. Father has always said that in the long winter the lone wolf dies but the packs survives. However, father is dead. Don’t come back until you have enough dragonglass to fight the Night King. Do what you have to do. I’ll have to do the same to secure men for this long war.” He felt even more lost. He had finally said what she wanted to hear only to dismiss him. Something did not feel right.

“Sansa, what do you mean secure men? We have the men.”

“Not really,” she seemed hesitant to continue he reached once more to her face to reaffirm her to continue. She looked up to meet his eyes, “we all have roles to play. I know what I have to do. It is better for you to be gone than for you to see me marry Littlefinger.”

He was in a state of disbelief. His other hand reached for the other side of her face. Her eyes only closed tightly not wanting to meet his eyes. “Sansa you cannot do this to yourself. You have suffered enough in the hands of this man. I won’t let you do this.”

“I’m not a child Jon! I know what I’m doing.” Once more pushing away from his touch.

“Do you? Because it seems quite different of the right thing,” this time he was the one to turn away facing the heart tree. “Are you saying this so I won’t leave you?”

She reached for his shoulder turning him around. “Of course not. Jon you should go to Dragonstone. Don’t try to protect me. You have made your decision and I have made mine.” She simply walked away. Leaving him cold and surrounded by the sounds of the North.


	2. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She did not want this moment to end at all. His scent consumed her, it was different from Father’s yet he reminded him of how her home once smelled.
> 
> Sansa visits the Crypts only to realize her feelings for Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers!  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter let me know what you think!

The crypts were warmer than she remembered, she had the strong darkened stones to protect her from the winds of winter. She halted to see her aunt Lyanna’s statue, _Arya should look just like her, wherever she is. I know she’s alive, she cannot be gone… she cannot be dead._ She placed the thin wild flowers and weeds below her feet.

_She deserves blue roses, but winter is here._ She thought about the glass garden that once grew the most beautiful blue roses that she has ever seen. Even as the snow surrounded the castle walls the Glass Garden was hot as a summer’s day. So many childhood memories in that garden she wish to relive again, to play with her brothers and sister and hide from the Septa. _I shall repair the glass garden when the war is won. If there’s even a castle to repair when the Others march against the living._ Her stone cold face was peaceful, nothing of her pain and suffering of her last minutes on earth showed through the stone.

“My father told me that I resembled you once, I did not know how. People spoke that Arya was just like you, free and with the northern look. Now I do believe it. We were both dishonored too young to understand that the world is a cruel place,” She paused to wipe down the tears that have fallen on her cheeks, remembering her sweet father.  She clenched her eyes shut to suppress the flashing images of that horrible night, “I’m sorry Lyanna, sorry that this had to happen to us. I got my justice, I hope that you got yours too. Rhaegar deserved to die for what he did to you, to the Stark family. Targaryen’s should not be trusted… Jon is so stupid to go.” _Why couldn’t Ser Davos just go and Jon stay at home with her? He shouldn’t leave Winterfell. He shouldn’t leave her._

She walked to see her Father’s statue, his face solemn with the replica of Ice in his hands. Her eyes watery. “I’m sorry Father,” she placed the remaining flowers under his feet and replaced the wax candle with a new lit one. “I was a stupid girl, I did not know any better. I placed my trust were I should not have, I should have listened. I’m sorry Father, I truly am.” She kneeled in front of his statue wiping away the tears that fiercely spilled from her eyes. “I pray to the Old Gods that you are reunited with Mother. I started praying again. Having my home back… being with Jon, made me believe that somehow the Old Gods are listening.”

She did not have the will to get back up, so she decided to lean against the hard stone next to her father. Simply closing her eyes she dreamed. She dreamed that spring will come again, that the snow melted and flowers and grass peaked through soft wet snow. She dreamed of Jon. Of his smile, laughter, and warmth. Of his soft forehead kisses and his protective hugs. She will miss him terribly.

“Sansa?” She felt a strong hand touche her shoulder waking her up from her dreams, “you’re cold. How long have you’ve been down here for?” he questioned before bringing her up and wrapping her around his arms.

“Oh Jon” she cried against his shoulder to hide her soft muffles at the curve of his neck. His gloved hands wrapped around her face to take a look at her.

“What’s wrong, Sansa?” he wiped several of her tears with his cold leather gloves, realizing her shivers he quickly removed them and placed a kiss her forehead.

“I want… I want to correct all the wrong I have done. Everything is just moving so fast that I don’t have time. I don’t have time to rebuild the Winterfell that I love. We are fighting an enemy that doesn’t need food nor sleep, we are underestimating Cersei, and you’re meeting a Targaryen and leaving home. How can I do this alone?”

He looked at her with sorrowful eyes, “You’re not alone. We are doing this together. Protecting our home. I promise I’ll be back.”

“Don’t promise Jon. Starks have proven to break promises.” She removed herself from his arms to look at her Father’s statues once more.

“I’m not a Stark, I’m a Snow. As a Snow I promise I’ll be back in Winterfell protecting us from what’s to come. I will always protect you.” It felt strange that he was the one reaching for her hand now. He laced his fingers with her tighten them softly between his. Through lower lashes she gazed at him.

“I suppose by name you are a Snow. But you have my Father’s blood, Northern blood. To me you will always be a Stark now and forever.” He returned her smile and she felt heat rising in her cheeks. He was so beautiful when he smiled, he looked just how a king should look. A king from the songs she used to love. _Prince Aemon the Dragonknight’s smile would not compare to Jon’s gentle and warm one._ She thought carelessly.

“Thank you, Sansa.” She felt that this thank you had a different meaning to the rest. It felt different to her.

“Jon, I know we did not end our conversation in good terms at the Heart Tree. I do not want you to leave without making amends. I… I love you dearly, brother,” it felt right to say it. He should know that she loves him. That even though they were distant such a life time ago as children that now she couldn’t live without him by her side, to be by his side. “I will do my best to prepare Winterfell for the war that is approaching beyond the wall. I believe you, this is the true war to fight. I won’t let the people of Winterfell down, I won’t let you down.”

He held their laced hands closer to his chest bringing her closer to him. “I trust that you will be an amazing leader. You have left me breathless in how wise you are beyond your years. I just don’t trust that man to be with you, when you said that you wanted to marry him. I grew angry because he doesn’t love you… the way you should be loved.” He looked at one of the pillars of the crypt next to Lord Ned’s statue, remembering that not long ago he had his hands around that man’s neck. “Please don’t, he might have brought the army of the Vale but they came because of you not him. We can find another way to repay him.”

“I know what he wants, Jon. He doesn’t want anything else besides,” _Being King of Westeros and me by his side._ “…besides I’m not a maid I have wed twice.” To her sorrow she felt used, like a pawn. She wanted to be her own player. _I will be my own player._

“Sansa, don’t speak like that. You are valuable, you don’t need to do anything you shouldn’t have to do. I’ll make you a promise to return to you if you make a promise that you will keep that man at bay. Don’t let him near you.” He gripped her hands closer, she can feel his heart pounding in his chest. She wondered if he could also feel her own heart racing. She leaned down to kiss his hands bringing her cold lips to his warm hands.

“You’re too good, Jon. I promise.” She let go of his hands just to embrace him once more. She did not want this moment to end at all. His scent consumed her, it was different from Father’s yet he reminded him of how her home once smelled. She search his eyes after letting him go, his eyes were darkened. She felt a different vibe in the air, they were so close together. She did not care, she liked the way they both felt like one when they were in each other’s arms. She leaned in to gently kiss him on the cheek slightly catching the edge of his lips. He stood there looking at her, his eyes now searching her own.

“I’m tired, Jon. I’ll see you in the morrow before your departure.” She gracefully left the crypts leaving him warm and surrounded by the lifeless sounds of the crypts.


	3. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa finally say goodbye.

He could not sleep. He was more restless than ever moving back and forth in his bed. He still felt the warmth of her kiss on the corner of his lips. He kept replaying it over and over wondering if it was a sisterly kiss. He had kissed Bran gently on the lips before he left to the wall. His sleeping body next to a disheveled Lady Catelyn. Arya had showered him with kisses that day as well when he gave her Needle. Yet their kisses didn’t feel the same as Sansa’s. She had never been friendly as a child towards him nor kissed him before, it felt strange yet he did not realize how much he yearned for it. His hands touched the corner of his lips feeling how cool her lips felt against his own skin.

He closed his eyes. Only to be awaken by wanton dreams of a woman kissed by fire. He had imagined her naked as her name day under him on top of white furs, a crown of blue roses contrasting with the red of her hair. From her mouth she produced the loveliest moans as he moved gently on top of her. He captured every sound coming from her mouth claiming it for himself. _You’re a selfish man claiming something that isn’t yours to have._ He awoke convincing himself it was Ygritte but this red was richer and darker. _It can’t be dreaming of her in such a way, she’s your sister._ The Sansa of his dream came to him willingly, driving him insane. He worshiped her body placing kisses all over it even on the scars inflected on her ivory skin. She had arched her back every time he dipped to taste her, _Stop it you fool, stop this at once._ He felt like a true bastard dreaming of her in such a way. But it was only a dream, a sweet forbidden dream.

He got out from his bed walked towards the basin filled with cool water splashing his face and neck letting it drip to his chemise. “It’s only a brotherly kiss, nothing more.” He gripped the basin, his knuckles turning white. _I cannot say goodbye to her, I won’t be able to look at her in the eyes. Not after this dream._

He looked at the window only to see Ghost leaping and playing with a figure in the snow. He narrowed his eyes to see the moon reflect the fiery hair that flowed in the wind. He pushed himself from the window to scurry to get ready. It did not take long for him to put on his leather boots, leathers, and cloak. He looked at the window one last time to make sure the beast and the beauty were still there.

The snow seemed to have falling from the sky making everything still. He heard her giggles, he seemed to be pulled towards her. Jon walked softly just to lean on the side of the castle wall observing her as she played with the silent beast. Her face was flushed pink and gloves covered in snow, she was throwing snowballs at Ghost while he successfully trapped them between his teeth before the snow melted. He slowly reached down to create a snowball of his own, he wanted to join in on the fun. It reminded him when Robb, Sansa, Theon, and baby Arya use to play in the snow near the weirwood tree. They would fleck each other with snow until they were all soaked; the Septa had to ruin the fun by escorting the girls out.

> “Ladies should not behave in such a way. Sansa you know better than this, you should be the example to your sister. Now come along back into the castle to resume your classes.” Sansa turned to look at them saddened that she had to leave the fun. While Arya threw a fit and clenched Jon’s hand for dear life so she won’t be taken away. In the end it was always Sansa that will compose herself and walk back into the keep. It was the last time she ever played with them.

He finished his snowball and silently sneaked up on them to throw it at Ghost behind his back, the beast silently moved back. She was startled that she let out a soft yelp. “Jon! You scared me!” she playfully threw him the snowball she had for Ghost landing on his chest.

“I threw it at Ghost not at you. Now…” he quickly gathered snow to throw it at her but she was quick to leap out of the way. She gathered one of her already formed snowballs and threw I again landing on his thigh. She moved away but this time she was not fast enough he had gathered a snowball and hit her on the shoulder. She gasp, surprised he was able to hit her, “Jon! A truce? We are even now.”

He reached down to collect more snow, “are we even? If I’m not mistaken you threw two snowballs at me. One in the chest and the second hit me on the leg. We are yet to be even, Sansa.” she started to run to hide behind Ghost but the Direwolf was on Jon’s side and moved away leaping towards the hidden trees. She gave Ghost a side stare, running once more. Small laughter escaped from them, this moment with her was so pure. He threw the snowball only to miss her. She started laughing but covered her mouth quickly as not to wake up the castle. Jon ran towards her to catch her by the waist twirling her around the snow. She wrapped her arms around his neck hiding her face, she kept laughing softly against his cheek. He placed her down only to come crashing down with her, Ghost had leaped towards them bringing them both down.

“Ghost, you pushed us both,” said Sansa to the direwolf who playfully leaped away once more. Jon took the chance to sprinkle snow at her. “Not fair!” she reached down to get some snow of her own but he pinned her arms to her side. With face of amusement she wiggled trying to set herself free, that only made Jon pin her down with his weight. She let out sweet soft laughs. “Jon, I’m getting cold.” Her breath mingled with her own, her chest breathing heavily against his own. _This is not right Jon._ He lifted himself from her sitting beside her, bringing her next to him. He removed his own gloves and then her own. He brought them close to his mouth to blow warm air from his mouth and moving his hands back and forth to create heat with them. Sansa looked at him tentatively, short breaths escaping from her lips. He blew again, “Is that better?” his warm hands kept rubbing her cold ones. She nodded her head. He brought her in to his side wrapping his cloak, the one she made around her. Sansa leaned to his side placing her head on his shoulder. “The night is beautiful,” he nodded against her head. _Not as near as beautiful as you._ “Jon?”

He hummed in agreement. “When you reach Dragonstone, can you bring me some sand? I heard that they have the most beautiful black beaches.”

He looked down at her, “of course I will,” he looked up at the sky leagues of starts filled out the night sky. For a moment he forgot about everything and everyone, there was no Westeros, no Night King, no duties, he was just a man with a woman who he loves, _as a sister_. He corrected himself. He smelled the scent of her hair, _lemons_ , she tugged at his chin. He looked at her ice blue eyes, “I don’t want you to leave, my gut is telling me that it’s a trap, Jon.”

“Sansa, I must. Don’t make it more difficult than it already is. My home is here in Winterfell,” _with you,_ “I will return.”

“Alive?”

He chuckled he returned from the dead once maybe he can do it again for her. She sounded like a lost child but she wasn’t a child no more, “Why are you laughing?” she teased him by slapping his chest.

“Nothing, aye Sansa I will come back alive.” He stood up bringing her up as well. “I’ll escort you to your chambers.” He reached to kiss her forehead before wrapping her arm around his.

The walk was silent yet it was not awkward nor did it feel like words should be fill the silence. Their bodies have been doing all the talking. She had gripped his arm tighter once they entered the walls of Winterfell. She had pressed her side closer to his as soon as they began to ascend the stairs to her chambers as if she did not want him to let her go. He did not want this night to end, this night felt magical like the time he was at the wall looking at the horizon, at the edge of the world.

“Jon I have something for you, wait here.” She opened her chamber’s door to enter her room. It wasn’t long until she came back. “Here, take this with you would you?” She had given him a patch with the sigil of House Stark engraved with a field of wild blue roses. “I wanted to add a little color to my clothes. But I think you should have to remember… home.”

“It’s beautiful Sansa. Thank you. I’ll make sure to keep it close, bring it back to you so you can have that color to your dress.” He placed it on his chest pocket, near his heart.

“I guess this is truly our goodbye.” Her gaze lowered.

“I want to see you send me off.”

She shook her head, only to begin nodding. “I’ll be at the balcony on the training yard.” With that he kissed her goodnight and left to his own chambers. Sleep came easily for him this time. He dreamt of a beautiful red-headed maiden singing songs of heroes plucking at a blue winter rose. He awoke with a sour taste on his mouth. _This is the right thing to do Jon. You need to get that dragonglass no matter the cost. Protect your home, to protect Sansa._ He washed his mouth and broke his fast. He got ready for his trip, he bid goodbye to the dead. To his father. _You have to be smarter than father. You need to be smarter than Robb. I loved them, but they made stupid mistakes and they both lost their heads for it._ Her voice echoed in his mind. “I will try, try to learn from their mistakes.” He left the crypts abruptly to meet Ser Davos and their company already on their horse. He saw her there, looking down at him. He got on top of his horse, looking to meet her gaze. He slowly waved at her, she delicately waved as well. _Leave now, she’s strong. She will rule well._  

He galloped away leaving her alone, standing there with rosy cheeks and cold snowflakes falling in her hair surrounded by the sounds of Winterfell, their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I will turn this into a series; these two characters are too sweet and i love angst so who knows what will happen when Jon Snow returns to Winterfell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. This is a three part story. I got inspired again to write this pair after the beautiful episode we had on Sunday (7x01) so excited to see what happens next.


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